We each bore scars. We met at our daughter’s soccer games in South Pasadena, a very contented upper middle class town on the edge of Los Angeles. I...was the coach, she helped out with the practices and with the phone calls. My attraction to her was quick. I love ex-tom-boys, and I knew she was one: she had the walk, the bounce in her step, and the grace. When I met her for the first time, my eyes zoomed quickly from her face to her hand, pulse quickening, looking for a ring. She had no jewelry. ?Yeeeaahhh, this is some good pussy, ama beat this pussy raw?ama tear this pussy up?, he kept on saying as he went back and forth. The key to my chastity cage around her neck swung back and forth as her hair fell around her face. Looking at me, an expression of pure ecstasy like I have never seen before on her face, she stretched her hand to me. ?Come baby, come hold me?, she managed to get out. I’m not sure why, but in that moment, my jealousy evaporated. I realized I could never do what. More

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